So She Dances
by Bramblefox
Summary: Super!fluff, starring Erik and Christine even though they're never named. I'm amazed at how much of a hopeless romantic this proved me to be...*shakes head* Oneshot. Please R&R.


Wow. Super!fluff, coming to a fanfic site near you! shakes head Okay, long story short: one of my favorite songs from this Josh Groban CD (Closer, I believe) is called 'So She Dances'. Being the half-way-dormant/usually-not-so phan, I immediately thought that it would make a great phanfic. What I didn't realize is how fluffy it would be. But if it gives ya the warm fuzzies, oh well. I'll be glad you enjoyed. XD

I don't own Phantom of the Opera or the song 'So She Dances'. Even if ya sued me you wouldn't get much, so why bother?

--

All her life she loved to dance. From the moment she could walk unassisted she had a natural grace, a floating style of walking that caught one's attention and held it. Her voice was beautiful as well, but the way her little blond figure danced eclipsed all vocal abilities.

While in the Opera house she often slipped out of the dormitories late at night to relish in the glory of being able to dance on a huge empty stage. She was never caught, and she took great care to make sure no one ever saw her. But there was someone who all the caution in the world could not prevent from watching.

Those nights when she danced a shadow watched from afar, drinking in her grace and innocent abandon with an expression of bliss, hardly daring to blink lest he miss an instant of those solitary performances. When she danced in a group, perfectly synchronized with all the other dancers in a tired show of routine, she was confined and less than stellar. But alone, unburdened by thoughts of self-consciousness or pleasing the dance mistress, she shone.

As he watched over the nights he slowly began to nurse an innocent fantasy: to dance with her, instead of always watching from afar, to hear the music that seemed to issue from her very being. Being a composer he could hear music himself, but what he heard always had a constant thread of anger and heaviness. She exuded calmness, innocence, joy.

One such night while he waited in the darkened opera box for her to appear, he wondered what it would be like, to dance with her. He studied the silk gloves on his hands as he imagined walking up to her, never speaking a word but soaking in her features up close--in the white silk he could see her figure, burned in his memory but vague due to watching from a distance. If only he could see her up close…

Before he could dwell on his fantasy for too long he heard the soft, slow sh-sh-sh of her skirt on the wooden floors. His eagerness collided with anxiety; he ducked behind a curtain involuntarily before peering out again. She stepped onto the stage, already swaying in rhythm to her unheard melody. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she slid easily into her customary slow spins, a habit in order to get her bearings. The longer she spun the more peaceful her expression became. The distance between the box and the stage was quite far, but he could see the glimmer as a single tear trickled down her face--oh, he would have given his soul just to know what moved her so. Then she began.

So she dances, he mused. At that moment he knew that he must go to her, and silently dance, or he would burst.

He didn't remember the journey down to the stage; he remained unconscious of everything but that vision of her grace. Somehow he found himself on the edge of the stage, one hand stretched out in an unspoken invitation. His timing was off ever-so-slightly, enough so that his hand stretched towards her back instead of her front; in the half-second before she would face him he faltered and almost retreated in shame at his presumption--but it was too late, she completed the spin.

As she turned she faltered slightly. But the music within kept her going and she approached him with a smile. The touch of her hand upon his glove sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help sighing with uttermost joy as he tenderly enfolded her in his arms and they spun off into infinity.

It was at that moment that he could hear it, the music to which she danced…

- - - - - - - -

He awoke slowly, the vestiges of the dream slinging to his subconscious as he clung to the empty air next to him. The disappointment of awaking crushed him, threatening to yank his breath away and sit upon his ribs until he couldn't even gasp for breath-- it would have been far too much to bear if he hadn't heard the music. It threatened to depart upon awaking…but he could hear it still. And if he could hear that simple, heavenly melody he could never count the dream wasted.


End file.
